


Wedding Cakes and Sweetness

by Of_Princes_and_Savages



Series: Fake Fiances and True Love [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Princes_and_Savages/pseuds/Of_Princes_and_Savages
Summary: Three years after bonding over a passive-aggressive flower arrangement, Belle and Gold are engaged and preparing for their wedding. Neal and Emma offer to help find a cake, as they are somewhat experts in this field...





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Joylee: Fake Fiances and Free Cake: At some point did Emma and Neal wind up back at the Wedding Fair helping Gold and Belle pick out a cake?_
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> The answer is yes and it comes in three parts with a wedding. Yay! :D

Neal had no doubt that the tale of his father's attempt to propose to Belle would go down in history as the most complicated proposal this side of the Victorian era. It was a long story but essentially Belle had been the one to pop the question in a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants while stricken in bed with a cold. Romantic. Then again, their "meet cute" involved profanity and flowers and passive aggression towards Mayor Mills so...par for the course? Or something?

Meh.

Either way: Neal was getting a new stepmother, which Emma found to be highly amusing when she found out.

Neal hadn't done much dating in high school. No real reason why, he just hadn't, his first kiss hadn't even happened until senior year. In the most embarrassing father-son talk in the history of mankind, Papa had actually sat down with Neal one afternoon and said it was perfectly fine for him to be dating boys and he didn't need to be afraid of criticism, which was nice in some ways but Neal was too busy trying to melt into the couch cushions like lost change to appreciate it. So Papa hadn't met but two of his college girlfriends, and while he was neutral-almost-nice to Morraine, (her mom read a lot of fantasy novels she'd said, saw the name and fell in love with it,) it was glaringly obvious he wasn't so keen on Tamara.

(Who turned out to be a veritable checklist of bad girlfriend stereotypes ranging from cheating on him with some dude named Greg, to thinking he had money because of his rich dad to a little gaslighting now and then, fun!)

Compared to the two or three other ladies he'd introduced to his father, Emma had all but been given a blue ribbon. For some reason Neal couldn't figure out, something about Emma and his father just clicked. They weren't besties, (thank _god,_ that would be too weird,) but they were comfortable together and were freakishly good at reading people, which made for some interesting gossip now and then between Papa's connections and Emma's bail-bondswomaning.

When it came time to start planning the wedding, Neal was only a little surprised it was gonna be a small affair at a historical Queen Anne mansion outside of town that held such events. Papa had a small circle of people he didn't hate, and maybe two or three friends out of that circle. Belle was more social, but her father apparently wouldn't come even if he was providing the flower arrangements. Belle considered that very open-minded of him all the same since he hadn't given an outright "no daughter of mine" speech or the like.

There were hors d'oeuvres and assorted liquor to acquire even if the party was a small one. Maybe twenty people, counting the happy couple and Neal and Emma. And of course...there had to be a cake.

Papa would deny it like he denied to having a collection of goofy socks, but Neal inherited his sweet-tooth from him. It hadn't occurred to him that men "didn't bake" until he came up against assholes later in life, but some of Neal's earliest memories had him standing on a stool putting sprinkles on a frosted cake or cookies. Papa probably could have made his own wedding cake, (anyone in Mrs. Schumacher's third grade class would remember the red-and-blue buttercream with piped web designs on his Spider-Man birthday cake, the man had skill,) but then Emma brought a flyer advertising that same wedding fair they'd had their first date at six months ago.

Those cakes had been delicious, and it took little convincing to get Belle and Papa to take a look. Er, taste?

Neal had borrowed another engagement ring from his father's display case, (and ignored the teasing that he should go ahead and buy it, _just in case_ ,) and he, Emma, Papa, and Belle piled into the Cadillac to drive to the wedding fair. It hadn't occurred to Neal that he and Emma might get outed as fakers until that same blonde lady in green with the pom-pom topper on her pen came out to start admitting couples. Either she didn't remember them, or Tink didn't care who was coming for the free cake as long as they were polite and didn't sit there shoving samples into their faces like pigs.

Several of the same bakeries had sent cake again. Emma and Neal picked a few of their favorites, (Emma doubled up on that hot cocoa cake with the cinnamon dusting, which was pretty freaking fantastic Neal must say,) and some new ones while Belle and Papa looked around and eventually rejoined them at the table.

"What, no chocolate cake?" Neal asked, glancing at his father's plate. Chocolate was a crippling Gold family weakness, he had surmised early in life.

"I believe a white cake is traditional," Papa said archly, the effect only slightly ruined by the sunny yellow icing on his fork. "And if you recall, you're a disaster when wearing a white shirt and eating chocolate."

"I was six Papa! Six-year-olds and melted Hershey's bars are disasters by definition!"

"For the laundry perhaps. Though I'll never know how you managed to get it on the back of your shirt."

Emma snorted to his right and Neal surrender his dignity in favor of an undignifiably large bite of a cake that tasted largely like almonds and sugar. Eww. That one was not a keeper. The peanut butter cake with whipped chocolate icing and some magical peanutty mousse filling was a definite winner though. He ended up with a smear of frosting on his upper lip though that didn't really help his case at all about his neatness-

"Ooh, try this one," Belle said, nudging her plate towards Papa and pointing out the cake with a thick layer of something in the middle.

Papa oblidged, then made a face. "That's applesauce isn't it? I'm not overly fond of apples."

"Oh, right. Sorry. What's that one you have there? The yellow one?"

"A honey lemon cake. I think the cake is just lemon, but the frosting has a sort of honey taste."

"Mm! That's not bad."

"Yes, I can tell from how you won't stop eating it," Papa teased, though he made no move to stop his fiance from taking a third bite. "Shall I mark that down as a maybe?"

Neal rolled his eyes a little at Belle kissing his father's cheek. Yes, she did mellow Papa out, but he'd rather not watch his father kiss anybody, thank you. He liked to pretend they didn't have sex either. It was better for his health and sanity that way. Emma nudged his ankle under the table and drew his attention to a slice of orangey-red cake on her plate. "Try that."

He did.

And it was really weird because it was spicy-salt-savory, and not sweet. Sort of tomato-like...garlic? Meat?

"Okay," he pulled a face. "What the hell is _that_?"

"Pepperoni pizza cake."

"No shit," Neal snorted, picking at the icing. "What's in the frosting?"

"It tastes kinda cheesy, but not like pizza cheesy. It's _weird_ ," Emma made a face, scooping up another forkful. "And I can't quit eating it."

Neal slid her plate to his other side, out of her reach. Emma gave him a mildly offended look, but didn't seem overly displeased by his valiant effort to get her to stop eating the unholy pizza cake abomination. She took a drink from her complimentary water bottle and discreetly swished it around in her mouth, but made a face when she was done. Apparently pizza cake _lingered_ and was distinctly unpleasant.

Belle slid her plate towards Emma from across the table, gesturing towards the half-eaten sample slice that looked like a plain frosted cake with a thick stripe of cream between two layers of white cake. "Here, try some of that, it's got peppermint buttercream or something in the middle."

Emma oblidged, humming happily. "Mmm, that's good. I don't mind peppermint so much, but why do they always mix it with chocolate? That's gross."

"Mint and chocolate are an unholy combination," Papa nodded in agreement. "More so than pepperoni and cake."

He reached over and snagged Belle's plate back towards them before Emma could finish the sample, so he could try it. Neal snickered a little at the offended look on Emma's face and he kissed her temple.

"I'll go get you another."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an order for cake.

In the end, the three front-runners were the peppermint cream-filled cake with white chocolate buttercream Papa risked death to take from Emma, the honey lemon cake, and one called "black velvet" that was dark chocolate with a fluffy vanilla whipped icing. The icing came with a swirl of edible glitter in it, and the ladies had gotten a giggle out of the fact that it was gold glitter.

Neither Neal nor Papa were _quite_ as amused, but good cake was good cake.

Unfortunately that made it harder to pick one.

And then, while they lingered at the table, Neal had picked up a pamphlet advertising the services of the various bakeries he hadn't bothered with last time since he and Emma were fair-crashers and not planning a wedding. The one bakery with the black velvet cake dished out cupcakes and could stack them up in tiers like a traditional white wedding cake. They also did the peppermint cake, so they decide that black velvet and peppermint cupcakes would do adequately for the twentysome guests.

Neal drove Belle to the Sunflower Bakery the following week to place the order. Papa would have done it, but a surprise meeting had popped up he couldn't miss, and Neal thought that would be okay. The Sunflower Bakery was a cute little establishment with handpainted murals on the walls of flowers and sun symbols and a perky, eager girl in her twenties behind the counter. It was just the sort of place that would have made Mr. Gold hiss like Satan in church.

Not that his father was the devil, of course, but cutesy flowers and giggly young people struck all the wrong nerves in Papa's system.

The redhead that Belle walked up to had a stripe of white woven into her braided pigtails, a smattering of freckles, big blue eyes, (those were familiar, _why_ were those familiar?) and wore a pink blouse underneath her light purple apron. Her nails were painted with snowflakes, and Neal wondered how girls painted tiny stuff like that on their fingernails while Belle worked her people-magic. Actually, she didn't have to--

"Belle! It's great to see you!" the girl ( **Anna** , Neal thought, but it was hard to read her squiggly handwriting, god, was that a glitter gel pen she'd used?) chirped. "How have you been! How's the library? Who's your cute friend?"

"Hello Anna," Belle said slowly, smiling. "I'm fine, the library's fine, this is my future stepson, Neal."

"Wait what?" Anna blinked, eyeing Neal again. "Ummm...oh! Right, you were dating that silver fox guy. At least I think you said he was a silver fox? Or was his name Mr. Silver?"

"His name is Gold-"

" _That's_ right!" Then Anna gasped. "Are you getting married? Why didn't you call me! I could have stole a bunch of cake samples for you to try if you said something!"

Belle laughed. "I'm sorry Anna, I thought you were still busy getting everything together after You-Know-Who."

Anna finally made a face that wasn't a sunny smile, although she still looks about as angry as a fluffy bunny. "Blech. I don't know what I was thinking with _him_. I'm lucky Elsa and Kris helped me get back on my feet, but yeah, it was a little crazy. So! Now how can I help you, and what's it take for me to get an invite?"

"I'll call you with the details, but I'm here to order some cupcakes to be picked up on the 11th of next month please. Two dozen black velvet cupcakes, and two dozen of those, um, what's the one with the white chocolate and the peppermint cream?"

"Ooh, great choices! That would be our wintermint cupcakes. I helped Rachel come up with them myself!"

"Did you suggest adding chocolate?" Belle smirked.

"Of course I did! Chocolate is the best of all the flavors. Oops!" Anna dove for a notepad and pen. "I'm supposed to ask how you heard about our bakery. My bosses are trying to come up with some advertising thingie and they wanna put the ad where people will see it best. Or something."

"We went to that wedding fair last week," Neal answered. His gaze fell on the case and one cupcake stood out. "When you're done, can I place an order of my own?"

Anna talked a little too much, but she was quick behind the counter. She rang Belle up and presented her with the receipt, ("You're gonna need that when you pick up the cupcakes, don't lose it!") and then tended to Neal in a timely fashion. She had tried hitting on him up until he mentioned Emma, then she shifted to a brief interrogation that revealed Anna's sister was Elsa Arendelle, Emma's friend with the platinum blonde hair and blue eyes exactly like Anna's. Apparently that meant he was off-limits according to some logic, which was fine by Neal.

His type was definitely _Swan_ anyway.

He dropped Belle off at the pawnshop so she could meet Papa before their dinner date. Or coffee. Whatever they'd get up to at four in the afternoon. Then Neal rang up Emma and drove over to her place with his little white box.

She met him at the door with a kiss, (god he would never get tired of that,) and then she smiled oddly.

"What?" Neal blinked.

"Elsa called me."

"Oh god."

"She said her sister was talking about you..."

"Yeah, yeah."

"What were the words she used?" Emma hummed, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck. "Not-too-tall, dark, and handsome. With a cute nose and puppy dog eyes."

"Puppy dog eyes?" Neal wrinkled his nose.

His girlfriend snorted, kissing the top of his nose. "Yes. You have puppy dog eyes, Neal Gold. Big, brown, puppy dog eyes. Now, what's in the box?"

Wondering what about his eyes classified them as _puppyish_ , Neal presented her with the white cardboard box he'd brought from the bakery. "A little present from the Sunflower Bakery. Open it."

Emma sat down at her wobbly little table and Neal pulled the other chair around so he was by her side. He didn't know what genius invented the cardboard box with the little slots for holding cupcakes (or possibly muffins,) but he owed them a great deal because the hot chocolate cupcake looked as good as it did in the bakery case. The fat blob of icing and the sprinkle of cinnamon, and he had it on good authority from Anna that there was a squirt of filling in the center. (Anna lit up when he ordered a cupcake for Emma like he was picking out a diamond ring, but the redhead was a confessed chocoholic, and she seemed to be the romantic sort.)

"Is this the cake I think it is?" Emma grinned.

"Yes. Happy Unbirthday Emma."

Emma looked over at the calendar she had hanging up on a wall, then back at him, and down at the cupcake, and back at him. Then she snorted. "Dork."

" _Darling_ ," Neal countered, kissing her cheek. "You gonna share that?"

"Only if you get your own plate."

"Fair enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am totally going to write the proposal story, it's in my WIP folder, but it's being difficult. It will get done though!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I meant to add this sooner, but this isn't "coastal hamlet" Storybrooke, it's more like a small city to my mind. Not that that might matter, it's just poking me with a stick to remind you. *bats the pointy away*)

The day of Papa and Belle's wedding wasn't anything overly special as far as atmospheric conditions. Neither sunny nor rainy, bright nor cloudy. Actually since this was Maine and it wasn't raining, everyone considered it fair weather.

It was a casual sort of wedding, the kind where it was preferred you showed up with a button-down shirt and coat but you needn't put down a deposit on a tuxedo. Neal went the extra step and put on a tie and black slacks to match his jacket. That was just how he was trained in childhood: _Dress appropriately_. His father might attempt going to the beach in three piece Armani if he could swing it, so there was such a thing as taking the rule too seriously.

Emma had opted to wear a pink dress that had little to nothing in common with the only other dress he'd seen her wear: It was a more vibrant shade of pink, fitted with a sweetheart neckline and stiletto heels on her feet.

He must've been gaping like a fish out of water for a second longer than appropriate, because Emma frowned.

"Is it too much?" she winced. "I mean I've never been to a wedding, and not a 'dress-casual' one, whatever the hell that is. It's too much, isn't it?"

"No! No, no," Neal shook his head. "Just...you look great. Really, really great."

"Then why are you staring?"

"Good staring, I promise," Neal chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Really good. Great."

Emma relaxed, then she laughed and adjusted his tie. "You look pretty good yourself. We should get going before I find a better place for this tie than around your neck."

That sounded like a post-reception conversation, so Neal was happy to get on the road to the Queen Anne outside of town. He almost drove past it, and would have if Emma hadn't been his navigator. In hindsight, he could not have been blamed. Pink on Emma? Excellent. Pink on the house his father was getting married at? Unexpected. Very, very unexpected.

"Oh my god, it looks like a dollhouse," Emma whispered as they walked up the pathway to the door. She was holding onto his arm, partly because her heels were not safe on this gravel. "Did Belle pick it out?"

"I can't tell you. And not because it's a secret, just because I literally could not tell you. Weird, artsy Victorian stuff like this? Papa loves that, and so does Belle. And if there's a weird historical so-and-so story attached? They probably _both_ picked it out."

"Well...at least they're a good match."

Neal and Emma wound through the house until they met up with some familiar faces in the gardens. At least to Neal.

Jefferson was about ten years younger than Papa, but he was still what you'd call his best friend and so had proclaimed himself the best man even thought they really weren't doing the traditional wedding party thing. But then...Jefferson was a little _special_. His little daughter Grace was a delight, though, and had brought along a toy rabbit as her plus one.

Belle's social circle was really the lion's share of the guests. Mulan (who Neal saw at work, huh, small world,) and her "friends" Aurora and Phillip. (No one was sure if Phillip was a beard for one girl, or if they had some sort of polyamorous triangle, but they went together like peanut butter and jelly and bread to hold it all together, so that was fine by Neal.) Anna had bounced up and she'd dragged Elsa along to the wedding so Emma had someone non-Neal to talk to. Ruby Lucas and her grandmother were there, and another redheaded girl named Ariel Neal had heard of before. She was pregnant and her husband was fluttering near her side, a tall guy with dark hair and a Disney Prince smile. What as his name? Al? No. Eric. Yes.

Neal was a little surprised that one of Belle's friends was a girl with wild red hair just barely braided back and a Scottish accent even stronger than Papa's. Merida Dunbroch, her father had some kind of publishing company or other and Merida had met Belle through some college exchange program or other and they stayed penpals ever since. She'd been in America working on a project and insisted on coming to the wedding. (She had a suspiciously book-shaped present and if she was giving a present in the form of a book that wasn't released yet, Belle might be naming her firstborn child _Merida_.) It was a little hard to understand Merida when she started getting excited, and Neal wondered what would happen if she and Papa sat down after a glass of something alcoholic.

They'd probably need a translator...

Then there was a guy shorter than Papa, bald with a salt-and-pepper beard and an almost permanent scowl on his face except when his gaze drifted towards his girlfriend. That was Leroy, Neal remembered. He worked at the flowershop for Belle's father most of the time, he probably brought the flowers with him. Astrid was a sort of waifish looking lady with brown hair and eyes, wearing a pink dress as she flittered around. Well, flittered and tripped. She was a little clumsy, Astrid was. She almost tripped over one of the white chairs set up in front of a lattice altar, except she fumbled straight into Leroy's back and ended up wrapping around him like a pink ivy. Leroy didn't look too upset over that, though.

It was a weird, motley bunch, but then, at least there was no drunken uncle or nasty cousins, (or ex wife, sorry-not-sorry Mom,) or other unsavory family members lurking around. Belle's father had kept good on his word not to show, but the flower arrangements Neal did see were very, very classy-looking. Moe French hadn't taken too keenly to his little girl marrying an older man, but it hadn't ended in a disowning so Neal considered that a step forwards.

All-in-all, counting the ordained Archie Hopper, there was a total of eighteen people and a stuffed rabbit in attendance, plus the bride and groom. Shortly Papa came out and everyone started filing into a seat while Papa and Archie stood at the altar.

Jefferson pulled a radio from under his seat and hit a button that made it play the wedding march. Neal and Emma (and everyone else, really,) got a bit of a snicker out of that before Belle came out dressed in a lacy white dress and matching heels, a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

"That's a nice bouquet," Emma said quietly to Neal. "They look happy together."

 _Happy_ was, perhaps, an understatement given how Papa had this way of looking at Belle like she was the only person in the universe. A comet could have struck Archie Hopper dead and Papa probably wouldn't have noticed at that moment. Neither would Belle.

"Yeah, they are. He's happier with her than I've seen him in years."

"I'm not sure if this is bad luck, but...what happened with your parents' marriage?"

Neal pressed his lips together. "Me. Mom got pregnant and Papa thought it was right at the time to marry her, take care of her. They were really young, kinda rushed into it. Neither knew each other well until they figured out the worst in each other. Then Mom took off with a biker because Papa bored her and that was that. Papa and Belle have been dating for years though, I don't think Belle's gonna be running off on the back of a motorcycle."

"Not in those heels at least."

Neal snickered as quietly as he could, getting a look from Mrs. Lucas he understood all the same. Right. _Wedding_.

Quick vows were spoken. Anyone who didn't have eyes might say too quickly, but you could see it in Papa and Belle's eyes that words were meaningless in this moment. Rings were put on fingers and Archie said, "You may now kiss the bride."

Belle hopped up on the tips of her toes and nearly knocked Papa down, but he caught his balance at the last second. Someone whistled (Jefferson or Merida, Neal couldn't tell who it was behind him,) and a round of cheering applause went up. (Definitely Jefferson whistling, although Merida wasn't quiet either.)

Grace, likely through her father's influence, had a little box of confetti she flung at Papa and Belle as they walked back down the aisle between the chairs, gold sparkling in their hair and clothes. Jefferson lugged his radio back inside to where the reception part was being held and left it on in one corner, scooping his daughter up into a spin around the room while the festivities commenced.

Neal had made his way around to congratulate his father and stepmother with Emma before he swiped a paper plate with two cupcakes (one of each,) and two skinny flutes of champagne. Like a gentleman. He required the inital dosage of champagne plus two more before he was inclined to dance, whereas Emma had been dragged out along with Elsa by Anna to a catchy pop song he couldn't name for the life of him. It was that song that went "I think I want to marry you" or whatever. Meh. Top 40 hits are in the top forty for a reason, Neal supposed, resigning himself to having Bruno Mars stuck in his head for the rest of the week.

He wasn't about to rush into a marriage with Emma, however. He didn't feel the need to get married or rush to move in together. Things with Emma were simpler when they took things one step at a time, knocking down obstacles before moving ahead. Neal felt sure if he sprang a ring on Emma before she was mentally and emotionally prepared, it would look a lot like a cat surprised by a toaster; Lots of hissing and fleeing and panic.

For now? They had dancing and cupcakes.

And the humorous sight of poor Archie's whole head turning red as Ruby's lipstick when she dragged him onto the improvised dance floor.

It was a small party so almost everyone took a turn with almost everyone. Phillip took a turn with Granny, Emma had been persuaded to dance with Jefferson, and Neal took Grace for a spin until Jefferson switched with him and Neal had Emma to himself. _Perfect_.

Emma peered over his shoulder, smiling at Papa and Belle swaying together. "I don't think anyone's going to have much luck peeling the happy couple apart."

"Not unless they wand a gentle, cane-shaped reminder across the face who's wedding it is," Neal nodded. "How are you enjoying yourself?"

"Pretty well, actually. I wasn't sure I'd know what to do at a wedding."

"Well, I think you'll find that my family doesn't exactly fit the standard mold. What with my stepmother being younger than me by four years and all."

Emma snorted, letting her head drop on his shoulder. "What have I gotten myself into with you people?"

"A lot, but, we won't drag you in deeper. We'll be sure to ask you before we involve you in any ritualistic killings or human sacrifices."

"Am I the sacrifice or am I helping with the sacrifices?"

"Depends on what you're most comfortable with."

"Oh my _god_ ," Emma laughed, tilting her head up to kiss him quiet. "Shut up."

He did. For now.


End file.
